As every year for long enough to be tradition, ARA invited its community to a meeting to celebrate the end of the academic year. A newspaper is the collective gaze and adventure of a community, and the Antiga Fàbrica Damm was once again the setting for this gathering of all those who make the newspaper, whether by creating it or by reading it. The meeting coincided with one of Albert Om's monthly interviews, with a surprise guest, who turned out to be Ada Parellada, and the conversation was accompanied by happy news: the chef is signing for ARA and in September will start a weekly collaboration with recipe videos.

Telecinco has premiered a reality show to heal the family relationships of the participants in a rather bizarre way. In El camino de la verdad (The Road to Truth), five couples made up of very estranged children and parents must travel the Way of Saint James, participating in therapeutic activities that are supposed to help improve their bond. It is very possible that the premise reminds you of one of the most morbid events of recent months. The presenter is Luján Argüelles, already seasoned in this type of format. She disguises cynicism with a theatrical enthusiasm that is very effective for the network. She has the audacity to use people's misery to construct a dramatic spectacle and, on top of that, claim she is fixing their lives. A coach acts as a therapist and proposes a series of confrontational exercises so that the contestants can vent and unlock the pain they carry inside. The result is a melodrama of reproaches, panic attacks, tears, and unbearable shouting, where the viewer swallows the bitterness of the protagonists. A festival of dead grandmothers, run-over brothers, absent fathers, irresponsible mothers, heartbroken children, and neglected offspring. There are terrible stories of abandonment, negligence, narcissism, and family breakdown. What television does is turn all emotional debris into an epic of misfortune. While they make their way along the Way of Saint James as an allegory for a transformation process, the coach sets up a boxing ring where parents and children will have to vomit all their reproaches while punching a sparring partner. The organization of a live funeral is also announced, which is already predictable to be the obituary show. Along the way, some celebrities appear who have been on the cover of gossip magazines for their serious conflicts with their parents and who will give advice on how to manage family miseries.

An opinion piece by Arcadi Espada in El Mundo is being ridiculed by some. It states that “the magnitude of Spanish disappointment in the World Cup requires more than tactical analysis”, that “serious teams do not smile while the anthem plays, but when they collect the cup”, that “the outcome cannot surprise those who observe the moral climate of the country” and that “the elimination leaves urgent lessons for 2030”. It might seem, of course, that the columnist prepared the text days in advance, awaiting the Spanish defeat, and that a lack of filters and misfortune caused it to be published to the great ridicule of the journalist and the media. Some illustrious journalists and people from the profession are taking advantage of this.

BlackBerry tried it before: in its final years, when it was still looking for a response to the onslaught of the iPhone and Android terminals, the Canadian brand explored phone formats that moved away from the conventional rectangular bar. The 2014 BlackBerry Passport had dimensions practically identical to those of a physical passport; I still keep mine. The format did not serve to save the brand, which ended up abandoning the terminal business, and for more than a decade no one has recovered it.

I am not a football follower at all, but this World Cup has been a goldmine in terms of communication and a blessing for this section. Some gems from the final that made me happy: “Another of the footballers who drew attention was Dani Olmo, who appeared with a flag of Gibraltar, another of the autonomous communities represented during the celebrations”. It was from Terrassa, but down it goes and Spanish Gibraltar. I was also moved by the article from the editor of Clarín, when she said that the Argentine team had been “well-behaved and respectful” and that “it displayed, on and off the field, a range of values that are not abundant nowadays”. The day they stop being ill-behaved and disrespectful, it would be better to cross the street, then. The Argentine front pages tended to applaud their team, saying they had given their all. I suppose that didn't include the superfluous and trivial detail of shooting at the goal. In any case, the option from El Gráfico was nice, in which Messi was seen crying and the headline “Heroes nonetheless”, because it was a copy of a front page they themselves made in 1990, when the albiceleste lost the final against Germany. Identical headline and composition, only that the one shedding tears then was Maradona. Meanwhile, of course, in the United Kingdom they saw it quite differently and felt little pity for the Argentine defeat: the final report in The Telegraph began with the phrase “Football 1 - Criminals 0”.

Mediaset has already confirmed the signing of Josep Pedrerol, who leaves Atresmedia after thirteen years practicing the lowest-quality journalism. Since he is dedicated to sports, it seems harmless, but the ideological charge is always there. The media group transfer is significant: it happens after Florentino, during Real Madrid's electoral campaign, had a fit of rage with Atresmedia for having interviewed Enrique Riquelme, and chose Cuatro so that Iker Jiménez would flatter him. Curiously, now, Pedrerol is following him.Pedrerol has become famous for his circus-like talk shows, first on Intereconomía with Punto pelota and later on Atresmedia with El chiringuito. Always full of shouts and scoldings, with vulgar and sexist fights and interventions. They have dubbed it an example of scarf journalism, but it has been much more than that. Social evolution has forced him to polish some of the most regrettable forms, and the passage of time has made people forget some of the most pathetic outbursts and approaches.El chiringuito has been perceived as a show of agitated gentlemen arguing, a grotesque spectacle that could seem white and innocent. But Pedrerol has disguised a lot of ideological baggage as farce and theater. Pedrerol's information factory has been a source of campaigns against players and coaches, and has managed to set the agenda for the rest of the media. Entire discussion panels dedicated to pointing out Barça stars and endless replays of images to take them out of context and manipulate public opinion. The reading of current sports affairs has always been done from the interests of Real Madrid. Pedrerol has maintained a servile attitude with Florentino Pérez. He is the journalist who has heightened the tone of informational language, and has normalized on television expressions more typical of overexcited fans. “Le ha pintado la cara” and the famous “retratado” have always sought to excite the audience through contempt. The usual exclusives, with capital letters and the sound of lightning and thunder in the background, have mostly been a piece of cake. He also cultivated the genre of the 'exclusinda', where he gave the floor to Eduardo Inda to poison the football scene.Pedrerol is the king of proclaiming not to mix politics and sports, but it has been in Jugones and in Elchiringuito where this cocktail has been most put into practice. Pedrerol orchestrated from his talk shows that Guardiola be criticized for giving speeches in Catalan in front of an international audience, he made lists of athletes who had expressed support for independence, he pointed out Barça during the Process and he scrutinized the stands of the Camp Nou with a magnifying glass. Pedrerol is the one who has done the most to politicize sports, even if it was from absurdity. We will now hear his evil and artificial laugh at Mediaset. The heir to Sálvame in a sports version will now settle into the group that has always fed on conflict and lack of scruples to continue doing the same thing it has done until now.

In the midst of a heatwave, Andreu Buenafuente and Eva Ugarte, dressed for autumn, focus on filming one of the last scenes of El otro mundo, the sequel to El otro lado, the series by Berto Romero that mixes mystery, paranormal phenomena, and humor. The filming takes place in a large house in the Sant Gervasi neighborhood of Barcelona, and inside it is much hotter than outside, where there is still a slight breeze. Between takes, a makeup artist touches up Buenafuente while another person tries to cool him down minimally with a small hand fan. "Filming a series set in autumn in July during a heatwave is a stroke of genius, it's an added challenge that we didn't want to overlook. Really, you could raise chickens in there," says Romero, between laughs, once the scene is finished. The comedian, besides being the protagonist of the fiction, also acts as director, a task he shares with Alberto del Toro.

On Monday at noon, the shockwave of the Spanish national team's victory in the World Cup reached the sports news. The feeling of collective euphoria was a common point across all programs. But where the idea of unanimity was most emphasized was in Jugones, Josep Pedrerol's show on La Sexta's afternoon slots. “The whole of Spain vibrated with the national team. This is how Ferran's goal was experienced in... Barcelona, for example”. The "for example" tried to pretend it was a randomly chosen city, but the intention was clear. Barcelona was the first snapshot of an explosion of celebration across Spain, to which images from Madrid and Seville were later added. The program also emphasized the spirit of Spanishness that had invaded the Basque Country: “This was sung in Bilbao. Euphoria also broke out there”, they said. And they showed images of a group of boys hugging, chanting the traditional “I am Spanish, Spanish, Spa-a-a-nish!” Pedrerol insisted on this idea of absolute unanimity: “In the big cities and in the villages. Children and adults. All of Spain united by the national team”. The subsequent voice-over of the video insisted on this idea of a “united country”, always starting with Barcelona, with a girl sticking half her body out of the car to wave a large Spanish flag. Then images from Madrid, Valencia, and Badajoz were shown, and Mataró and Terrassa were incorporated among towns like Jerez de la Frontera, El Cuervo, and Sanlúcar de Barrameda. The ripple effect of Spanish pride. It is logical that, from the state's point of view, this idea of a homogeneous mosaic that does not take into account dissidences, reticences, or other sensitivities is sought. But in a subtle way, this desire to underline and exhibit Spanish fervor in Catalonia was appreciated in a program that, during the time of the Procés, exuded contempt for any claim, not just for independence, but for Catalan identity.On La 1's Telediario they used the headline "One country, one cry: champions", which also seemed to allude to this unity of feeling. However, they did include in the rundown the news about the violent attacks that had occurred in Bilbao and Navarra in areas where fans had gathered in front of a big screen to cheer on the Spanish team. Another differentiating fact of Spanish public television was the image of Pedro Sánchez's presence at the match. In the Telediario they showed the photograph of the Spanish president greeting Donald Trump in the stands. The rest of the sports programs avoided the scene and Sánchez was made invisible. Trump took all the spotlight, following his desire to appear in the photo of the champions lifting the cup. Then they say that thing about separating politics from football, but only when it's convenient and as long as it doesn't affect their ideology or their conception of what Spain should be.

Today I propose a game, but you have to reach the end of the article and for some it will be difficult. "Spain comes out of the closet". This is the title of an opinion piece in Abc this Monday, which states that "young Spaniards have thrown overboard the complexes that stifled their elders to show their faith or cheer on their country without caring what others say about them". The gears of banal nationalism begin to turn and La Gran Turra attacks those of us who already like to see half of Barça on the field playing good football, but we cannot forget that Scotland has a national team and Catalonia, no. Some articles along these lines: "When the World Cup is involved, patriotic sentiment seems to transform and Spaniards show their national flag without complexes" (El Confidencial), "Colours displayed without complexes and with pride, as a citizen of Wisconsin might do with those of the United States" (El Mundo), "It has banished for a few weeks the usual shyness of people in displaying the national flag" (Abc), "The day Spain shed its complexes in front of the world" (El Español), "I am Spanish, not a fascist" (Granada Hoy), "A generation of Spaniards without complexes" (Periodista Digital).

Luck has accompanied the Spanish national team to their second World Cup, and none other than RTVE has benefited from this, having spent 55 million to acquire the rights to the competition in open broadcast and being able to milk them until this Sunday's final. Spain's match against Argentina became the second most-watched broadcast in Spain in television history, with an average of 15.7 million viewers and an 87.1% share (behind the penalty shootout in Spain-Portugal of Euro 2012, which had 18.1 million viewers).

Digital journalism has led us to the condemnation of unnecessary news. The algorithm determines that now it's time to talk about Rosalía, and the media rush to produce as many news items as possible on the topic, in the hope that some will be chosen by the opaque recommendation engines. This fever means that, from time to time, news with striking headlines appears. Now that the promotion of La bola negra is starting, it's appropriate to recall that magnificent headline from 20 minutos from some time ago: “What is the origin of the nickname Los Javis?: Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo explain it”. I hope they soon investigate the origins of the cryptic name by which the great musical duo Andy & Lucas are known.

Truth Social, the network driven by Donald Trump, aims to end its enormous losses by creating a kind of premium service that would allow preferential access to the most prominent messages published on it. It's not hard to deduce that no one with two brains – no matter how deep their MAGA cap is on their head – would pay to read the usual bile that's peddled there, if it weren't for the fact that its most followed member is none other than the magnificent Donald Trump. And the second and third are his sons, Don and Eric; it all stays in the family. For now, they haven't given more details, but it's unsettling to think that perhaps the brass emperor intends to monetize preferential access to his policies, since some of the measures that have conditioned the political and social life of the United States, that is, of the world, have been explained in the first instance with a message from him on Truth. Like tariffs. Having these indications with a small margin of time opens the door to generating immediate profits through the exploitation of insider information and is a modern form of corruption, whether to benefit old friends or, above all, one's own pocket.

Four years ago, Netflix released a series for teenagers that broke the genre's pre-established codes to explore healthier relationships. In an audiovisual market saturated with melodramas that romanticized risk-taking behaviors, mental disorders, addictions, and traumas, Heartstopper appeared. Influenced by the naive aesthetic borrowed from the comic book on which the plot is originally based, it told us the love story between Charlie and Nick, two students at a British high school. The series provided LGBTQI+ references that a whole host of previous generations had not had access to, with the aim of reflecting a safe environment for all the protagonists. Despite the clichés and the positivism that the series exuded, it did not make the mistake of depicting an idyllic world. It reflected the phobias and hostilities that unfortunately persist in society, but it showed how the creation of emotional bonds can become nuclei of protection that help in advocacy and activism. The protagonists are not outcasts forced into a drama of overcoming and solitary struggle, but a group of teenagers who have a support network of friends, family, and some teachers who help them move forward as any boy and girl of that age needs. Although neither the second nor the third season were better than the first, the series managed to sustain itself more or less according to its initial characteristics. But Heartstopper has died of success due to the Netflix virus, which injects commercial criteria and makes one forget unique qualities and authorship. The platform has finished the series with a final two-hour film. Heartstopper forever is a tedious and senselessly drawn-out drama. What they explain could be fitted into a twenty-minute episode. They have stretched the gum so much that, logically, the children have grown up in four days. The ridiculous situation of having a group of adults pretending to be minors is already happening. A film with no plot or conflict beyond an absurd couple's crisis. Heartstopper had the virtue of avoiding the clichés and misunderstandings typical of romantic comedies, defending the intelligence of characters who knew how to express their feelings well. This has disappeared in favor of drama. Of traumas that appear conveniently to construct conflicts effortlessly. Of a vague malaise that clouds the protagonists when a little suspense is needed. The sexualization of Charlie and Nick has been enhanced, with five half-dark sex scenes distributed with a stopwatch throughout the film. The classic television manual with teenagers taking off their shirts every twenty minutes and using sex as a balm to recover from tears. A tug-of-war that caused a loop of crybabies who don't stop whimpering. A clear example of how to ruin a endearing series and turn it into a bland product to squeeze the udder of Heartstopper's success.

This September, Sigfrid Gras's term as director of TV3 ends, pending whether the Corporation's governing council renews it for two more years. Taking advantage of the end of the season, we review how this season has gone and the future plans for this public television.

Netflix has already released a film that went rather unnoticed in cinemas and is worth recovering if you didn't see it. September 5, directed by Tim Fehlbaum, recounts the kidnapping of Israeli athletes during the 1972 Munich Olympic Games. It does so, however, from a very unique point of view: everything is explained from the control room of the American network ABC, which was there to broadcast the major sporting event. The film, therefore, does not aim to be a simple recreation of the kidnapping, but to explain how a tragedy with political and historical implications was covered on television.What the film proposes is a very interesting narrative exercise, because it combines the real images of ABC's broadcast from fifty-four years ago with recreations of the inner workings of television coverage. Practically the entire film takes place in the control room: a dark workspace, full of monitors and occupied by journalists, producers, and technicians specialized in sports broadcasts. Reality, however, forced them all to adapt to the dilemmas and informational difficulties of a much more dramatic event. It was about explaining what was happening inside the Olympic Village while the competitions were still ongoing.One of Fehlbaum's obsessions was rigor and fidelity to events, and therefore the work regarding editing is extremely meticulous. A large part of the images we see through the monitors in the control room are actual footage, which requires extraordinary synchronization with the entire recreation that is built around it. Even the real images of the broadcast with the iconic presenter Jim McKay, who broadcast the events on screen, have been respected. The performances and editing achieve constant interaction and dialogue between reality and fiction.But September 5 goes beyond the hijacking, which becomes the background motor. That broadcast marked a turning point in live retellings of tragedies. The film portrays the social context surrounding the events, with a conflicted Germany that still didn't know how to manage its past. And it also raises the television dilemmas inherent in a broadcast of this nature: the balance between information and spectacle, media responsibility in the face of tragedy and the pain of the protagonists, the medium's own influence on the course of events, and the technical intricacies that had to be overcome at a time when live satellite broadcasts were still incipient. It's fascinating to see how ingenuity compensated for everything technology has since made available to us. And how, despite the passage of years, the most difficult journalistic decisions remain the same.September 5 provokes the unease of a thriller and the emotion provided by the account of real events. A good film that reminds us that the world may have changed less than we think.

The internet is (virtually) infinite, but the confines of paper are dramatically limited: every square centimeter you dedicate to one topic is a square centimeter you don't dedicate to another. This might seem like a very meager nugget of knowledge, but Cruyff said that if you have the ball, the opponent doesn't, and he certainly got far. This Friday, newspapers had to decide who to grant their square centimeters to: the European guarantee, the amnesty that should bring back (among others) Carles Puigdemont, or the Court pointing Begoña Gómez towards the defendant's bench. As I predicted yesterday, the right-wing headlines relegated the ECJ's ruling to minor sections or, directly as Abc" did, to nothing. And they did so to emphasize that everyone should relax, as the Supreme Court here would use its supremacy – I don't dare to write 'supremacism' – to let the ruling go in one ear and out the other, magnificently unaltered.

Television viewers are accustomed to seeing the familiar bug in a corner of the screen, the logo that reminds us at all times which channel we are watching. In mobile telephony, there is an equivalent: the Service Provider Name (SPN), the text that indicates which network the terminal is connected to and that appears in the top status bar, alongside indicators such as coverage or battery level.

For a couple of years now, TV3 has found the key to surviving summers: British series. When the holidays arrive and Com si fos ahir says goodbye until the new term – this year the final episode will be broadcast this Monday in prime time – the public television's schedule is filled with English fictions. They are not strictly new, as most of them premiered years ago in their country of origin, but they usually yield good audience results, as demonstrated at the time by Dr. Martin or The Durrells. This summer TV3 is repeating the strategy with the following series:

Mid-morning, the media echoed the ECJ ruling that endorsed the amnesty law. On Spanish private television, the news caused them some bewilderment. The ruling shattered their condemnatory narrative of the last nine years, and they didn't know how to manage this new informational course. The contrarian reaction became evident in the time they dedicated to the news. Puigdemont has been one of the protagonists against whom more hours have been invested, and this time, they didn't dwell much on the analysis. On Espejo público, with Griso on vacation, they opted to ask themselves: “¿Vuelve Puigdemont?” and “¿Está más cerca el regreso de Carles Puigdemont a España?” Beyond speculating on the answer, presenter Lorena García quickly turned the page on the topic to address new issues. Ana Terradillos did the same on La mirada crítica on Telecinco. As soon as the reporter, standing in front of the National High Court, announced the sentence, the presenter got down to business when it came to moving on to new morning matters: “Bueno, pues este es el titular. Y ahora les dejamos con otras imágenes de la mañana”. On Vamos a ver, the following program, they didn't say a word about the news. On Cuatro, they also wondered about Puigdemont's return with on-screen captions. On En boca de todos, the sensationalist Nacho Abad asked for a live assessment from the PP spokesperson, Esther Muñoz, who downplayed her party's interest in the judges' decisions. Meanwhile, Pilar Rahola listened, laughing, from another box on the screen. Rahola noted the spokesperson's evasiveness and, after outlining the new judicial landscape that was emerging from now on, posed a challenging question to the presenter: “¿A quién le interesa más que venga ahora Puigdemont? ¡Te aseguro que al PSOE no es!” Nacho Abad, instead of answering, abruptly ended the topic: “¡Lo dejamos ahí! ¡Lo dejamos ahí! ¡Perdonad!”, and cut the connection to address another current issue about Vox. 

Catalonia's leading station, RAC1, was on the verge of experiencing its first-ever strike day this Friday. This was the decision of the workers, who in a statement criticized "the direction of the company's drift," while also demanding "a change in the management model." The mobilization was the response, according to their explanation, to "months of discontent caused by a management style that the staff considers based on pressure, lack of trust, and inadequate treatment of workers." The trigger has been a dismissal from the management area, which the works council demands be reversed. The stoppage was also to affect the sister music radio station, RAC105, but an agreement at midnight led to the reconsideration of the stoppage. "It was an agreement in extremis after a marathon day of negotiations. Some of the points demanded by the staff have been achieved, and the committee has considered them sufficient to call off the protest," explained the workers' representatives in a new statement.